


A Big, Gay, Andalite Love Story

by LizzyPaul



Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Relationship Advice, Soul Bond, nothlit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-13
Updated: 2012-02-13
Packaged: 2017-10-31 02:04:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/338671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizzyPaul/pseuds/LizzyPaul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco goes to an unlikely source for advice.  Takes place at the end of the series.  Major spoilers for book 40, and it will, in fact, make little to no sense if you haven't read that one first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Big, Gay, Andalite Love Story

There was a knock at the door. 

Gafinilan rose, nearly stumbling as he did so, cursing his aching bones. Mertil reached out a searching hand, shuffling in his sleep into the space Gafinilan had vacated, but didn’t wake. Gafinilan focused on his human morph, though every bone in his body called him to lie back with Mertil and ignore the persistent knocking. But it was too dangerous. 

It seemed as though the pain followed him into his morph, though he knew that couldn’t be the case. By the time he had pulled on his human clothing, the residual ache had dissipated. With a brush of his hand over Mertil’s forehead, he walked down the hall and opened the door. 

The human fighter, Marco, stood on the other side, hand poised to knock again. He colored slightly, and said, “Um. Oh. Hey.”

“What do you want?” he asked. He could hear Mertil’s sleepy, barely-conscious thoughts now, and passed along their link, <Go back to sleep, it’s only one of the humans.> But he could feel Mertil’s interest, and knew that he wouldn’t obey.

The human stood there, shuffling from one foot to the next. “I need your help,” he said.

“The war is over,” Gafinilan said sharply. “You didn’t need our help before, and I’m certain you will do fine without it now.” He began to close the door, but Marco stuck his foot inside.

“Hey!” he exclaimed. “It’s not about the Yeerks, okay? Just hear me out.”

Gafinilan wondered if he could push the door with enough force to crush the boy’s foot. He felt Mertil’s disapproval in the back of his mind, though, and let the door fall open. “What could I possibly do to help you?” he asked, weary. 

“I need to talk to you.” Marco looked up, over his shoulder. “And Mertil.”

Gafinilan hadn’t even noticed Mertil coming to stand behind him. He tried to be shocked that Mertil would allow himself to be seen, but didn’t have the energy. 

<Come in, Marco,> Mertil said warmly.

< _Mertil._ >

<Relax, _edra_. Can’t you see he’s uncomfortable? >

All Gafinilan could see was that the human was imposing himself once again on the quiet life he had tried to create for them both. But Mertil was humming with excitement, smiling brighter than Gafinilan had seen in weeks, and so he finally nodded, and stepped back so Marco could enter. 

Mertil led them into the spacious living room and offered Marco a seat. He sat, but Gafinilan preferred to stand, next to his beloved. If Mertil noticed that he had imposed himself between Mertil and the human, he didn’t say anything, for once. But Gafinilan felt the deep pulse of love Mertil sent, like a caress across his brain. 

<You wanted to speak with us?> Mertil prompted gently.

Marco looked between them. “I. Uh. I don’t really know how to ask this, and I don’t want to be insulting or anything, but, well, the last time I was here, I kind of got this, uh, _vibe_ from you and I...”

Gafinilan wondered if perhaps his translator was malfunctioning, but Mertil was nodding like he understood. 

“So I don’t really know what do to but I thought you might, or you could tell me I’m totally barking up the wrong tree which hey, no offense, I would rather hear from you because it’s not like we’re BFF and if you get pissed and never want to hear from me again, how is that different from now, right? So you guys are safe and I’m sorry if I’m being rude, but...”

Gafinilan gave up on trying to comprehend and just watched as the human’s cheeks grew a darker red, and the color began to spread back to his ears. Remarkable.

<Marco,> Mertil interrupted. <Does Aximili know how you feel?>

Marco shook his head, his eyes downcast and his mouth pulled into a tight frown, and suddenly, Gafinilan understood. “You’re in love with Aximili!” he exclaimed.

Marco shuddered slightly, a loud burst of air expelling from him. He didn’t look at Gafinilan when he answered, in a low voice, “Well. Yeah.”

“And you want _us_ to help you?”

He looked Gafinilan right in the eye and answered, “I thought you might know a little something about big, gay Andalite love.”

Gafinilan crossed the room and had Marco’s shirt twisted in hands before he fully realized what he was doing. He could feel Mertil’s irritation, but ignored it. “How did you know?” he demanded. “Have you been spying on us?” He shook the boy, was pleased to hear his breathing speed up. 

<Gafinilan!> Mertil exclaimed. < Leave him alone!>

“ _Twenty of your years_ ,” Gafinilan continued. “We kept this a secret, under the eyes of some of the finest minds in the universe. How could you--”

“I just knew!” Marco exclaimed. Gafinilan dropped him, and he fell back against the couch cushions. “I just knew, okay? I could feel it.” He paused, then added, “Um, I’m pretty sure Cassie knows, too.”

Gafinilan stumbled back towards Mertil, his head reeling. Mertil, apparently feeling that there was no further need for pretense, reached out and placed a steadying arm on Gafinilan’s back. “You just knew,” he repeated, unable to fully believe it. So strange, when, for over half of his life, it was something that had never been shared, or known, by anyone but Mertil. There were suspicions, perhaps. He remembered his mother’s reservations about their boyhood friendship, Commander Kelif’s inquisitive looks, but no one had ever been _vulgar_ enough to say anything.

“So I’m guessing Andalites don’t exactly consider homosexuality a good thing,” Marco said, sounding miserable, and pulling absently at a loose thread in the couch.

<There are no laws against it,> Mertil answered. < Indeed, among the artisans, it’s nearly commonplace.> Marco looked up at that, and Mertil continued. <I won’t lie to you, Marco. In the military, it is...frowned upon.>

“Frowned upon?” Gafinilan shook his head. “Actively discouraged. As Mertil says, there may not be _laws_ , but if you ever want to make it past _aristh_ , or find a position off the homeworld, it’s not something to be shared.”

<It’s _private_ ,> Mertil said. <Our relationship is not for everyone to participate in. I am Gafinilan’s and he is mine. That’s all that is important.>

“So Ax would freak out if I told him. Okay.” Marco slapped his hands against his legs and stood up. “Okay,” he repeated. “This has been great. Thanks, guys. You ever need anything, let me know. I’m going to get really, really drunk, I think. I’ve never been drunk, and that’s really pathetic for an eighteen year old veteran, don’t you think?”

<He might not ‘freak out’, as you say,> Mertil said softly. <Haven’t you considered that he feels the same way and is too nervous to tell you?>

“That’s sweet,” Marco said, but his sharp tone belied his words. “He’s never given me any sign that he could like me that way. It’s not worth the risk.”

<Perhaps he’s just as afraid of your reaction,> Mertil answered. <After all, humans are not very accepting either, are they?>

Marco looked up in surprise, and Mertil shrugged his shoulders, one of the many human gestures he’d picked up during their time on earth. <We have a television,> he explained.

“I...” Marco’s voice trailed off. 

“I have observed you together,” Gafinilan said abruptly, breaking the silence, and Marco started. “I do not believe that he would shun you, even if he does not share your proclivities.” He could feel Mertil’s pulse of approval, and disregarded it. He didn’t care about the drama playing out between the two boys; he just wanted the intruder out of his home. “Also, the difference in species may prove a much tougher obstacle than a mere sameness in gender.”

Marco stared up at him, considering, his face both thoughtful and confused. “Do you really think so?” he asked. 

Gafinilan stared down at him. “I would not have said it if I didn’t. It makes no difference to me what you think.” _As long as you leave,_ he added silently.

Eventually, Marco nodded. “Okay. Okay. I came to you guys for advice; it’d be stupid to just ignore you. I’ll...think about it.”

He shuffled, and Gafinilan realized, relieved, that the boy was finally leaving. He and Mertil escorted the human to the door. Before leaving, Marco turned around. “Thanks,” he said to them, without smiling, than turned and walked away.

Gafinilan closed the door. Mertil smiled, and Gafinilan couldn’t help reaching up to touch his beloved’s face. <Were we ever that young?>

“Younger,” Gafinilan answered, than began his demorph, feeling every one of his years.

*** 

Normally, Mertil would ignore knocking in Gafinilan’s absence, but he recognized the voice that called, “Gafi—Gafa—Dudes? Are you in?”

A discrete peek through the curtains showed the human was alone, and, as far as Mertil could tell, the street was deserted. He opened the door cautiously.

Marco peered in through the crack. He had a small box in his hands. “Mertil?”

<Come in,> Mertil said, and Marco stepped inside.

“Where’s your love bunny?” he asked.

Mertil clamped down on his irritation; it wasn’t the boy’s fault he had no notion of Andalite culture. Aximilli seemed much more concerned with assimilation than educating the humans on cross-species etiquette. <Gafinilan is at work,> Mertil answered. He saw Marco silently repeat his partner’s name. <It costs a great deal to maintain this façade.>

“And when he can’t work anymore?” Marco asked. 

Mertil allowed his silence to speak for him. 

Apparently realizing his error, Marco thrust out the box. Mertil took it, wearily. “Cinnabons,” Marco explained. “Ax’s favorite. I thought Gafinilan might like them, too.” He shuffled awkwardly from foot to foot. “He’ll need to be in human morph, of course. I’m sorry, I didn’t really know what I could get you. I’m kinda short on money right now...”

<This is wonderful,> Mertil said, smiling. <When Gafinilan is happy, I am happy.>

Marco raised an eyebrow. “I bet.” He looked Mertil directly in his front eyes. “Thank you,” he said, sincerely. “Both of you.” 

Mertil’s smiled widened. <I take it your conversation went well?>

“The best,” Marco said. His smile turned wicked. “Turns out there are a few advantages to having a boyfriend with a huge oral fixation.” 

Mertil’s smile disappeared. Surely Aximilli could tell the boy _something_ about his own culture, though? And the human didn’t have the decency to look shamed in the least. Different cultures, Mertil reminded himself.  <I wouldn’t know,> he answered, a bit stiffly.

Marco shrugged. “So thanks,” he answered. Then, after a moment of silence, he added, blushing a bit, “I’ll just...go.”

Mertil nodded. <I am gratified that the issue has been successfully resolved,> he answered. <Have a good day,> he added, as the boy headed for the door, and the human echoed the sentiment back.

He wondered if he would ever see him again. 

***

Gafinilan’s mental grumbling woke him up. <What is it?> Mertil asked, still groggy.

Gafinilan was already in his human morph, though Mertil knew he didn’t need to leave for several hours, yet. The pain was getting worse, and his beloved was spending more and more time out of his own body, trying to escape. The end was coming. 

“This human is a plague,” he muttered.

Mertil knew he was talking of Marco, and brightened at the thought of seeing his human friend again. No one was more surprised than him by the human’s increasingly frequent visits, especially since it seemed Aximili _had_ talked to him, and Marco made no more attempts to speak of private things publically. He hadn’t spoken to Gafinilan about the visits, however, for several reasons, the first being that he didn’t want to hurt him by admitting he was...lonely. 

<Be kind,> he told Gafinilan, and reminded him, <You liked the Cinnabons.>

“After what the boy has put me through...” he responded, but left to answer the door. 

Marco appeared in front of Mertil, looking almost sheepish. <I’m leaving,> Gafinilan sent through the bond, and indeed, moments later he heard the door open and shut once more. Mertil was disappointed; as much as he’d come to value his friendship with Marco, his time with Gafinilan was growing shorter. 

“He still doesn’t like me,” Marco said. 

<It’s not that he doesn’t like you,> Mertil said, lying a little. <Gafinilan is a very private person, and would rather his home remain...quiet and insular.>

Marco asked, with his impish smile, “And you?”

Mertil could not help smiling in return. <And I am more social,> he admitted. <I greatly appreciate your company. As you well know.>

Marco shrugged. “I still say you should let me throw you a party.”

Mertil laughed. <And who would you invite?> he demanded. <There are five individuals on the planet who know of our existence, and of them, your Prince Jake has become...insular as well, your friend Tobias is likewise not inclined to spend much time with people, and your friend Cassie does nothing else. Tell me, > he asked, quickly changing the subject, noticing the agonized expression that crossed his young acquaintance’s face at the mention of his Prince and _notlith_ friend,  <is Cassie even on this continent?>

Marco snorted. “She’s way off,” he answered, lifting his eyes heavenward. Ah. Onboard the newly arrived Andalite vessel. Not for the first time, Mertil wondered what it would be like to contact his brethren, speak to an Andalite who was not either his partner or a child. And, once again, he dismissed the thought just as quickly. He had grown used to not being treated like a freak; he didn’t think he could bear being pitied or ostracized. 

“Seriously, though,” Marco said, “a party would be awesome. Even if it was a little...small.”

<A gathering of you, Aximili, and myself is not a party,> Mertil pointed out, <it’s called Wednesday lunch.> And what a shock that had been, that Aximili was able to overlook his knee-jerk disgust, that Mertil now called him ‘friend’. Though considering Aximili was also romantically involved with a human, perhaps it wasn’t that surprising.

“You guys could come out,” Marco suggested. Mertil couldn’t help his surprise at the suggestion, and Marco had become adapt at reading Andalites. “Not like that!” he exclaimed, though he added, “Not like _that’s_ any shock to, well, anyone with eyes.”

Mertil’s eyes closed briefly in embarrassment.

“No,” Marco was continuing, “as _Andalites_. There are so many on Earth right now that a lot of people wouldn’t even bat an eye, and no one would give a fuck about the...you know,” he said, waving a hand in the direction of Mertil’s tail. 

Yes, that was true. While the humans had faults enough for ten species, it was true that no one on Earth would care overmuch about his shame. He wondered if that would change as the societies continued to interact. <It’s out of question,> he told Marco quietly, without knowing quite how to explain. There were some things he knew it was useless to argue with Gafinilan about.

Marco rolled his eyes. “Grow a backbone, dude,” he said. “You can’t let your husband push you around like that. This isn’t 1950, and you sure as hell aren’t June Cleaver.”

As was often the case in his conversations with Marco, Mertil was completely lost. <I have a backbone,> he protested mildly, latching onto the one thing he thought he understood. <Otherwise, I would not be standing here.>

“Right,” Marco said. “And a very shapely backbone at that. What was I thinking?”

<I haven’t the faintest idea,> Mertil answered honestly. Then, thinking of Gafinilan’s early morph that morning, said, almost without thinking, <Perhaps after Gafinilan’s passing, I might...>

He was unprepared for the human’s reaction. Marco scowled heavily, letting out a string of words that Mertil couldn’t catch, aside from the occasional curse. “What the fuck is _wrong_ with that asshole?” Marco demanded, shocking Mertil speechless. He knew there was no love lost between the pair, but the depth of Marco’s anger seemed unfounded. “Is it Ax? Can he just not get over whatever bullshit beef he’s got with us to _save his fucking life_?”

It took Mertil a second before he was able to communicate. <Suppose you start at the beginning?> he said, using a tone he hadn’t since his days commanding _arisths_.

Marco gaped at him. “He...he didn’t tell you?”

<Communication,> Mertil answered icily, <is not Gafinilan’s strong suit. However, during our time together, I’ve learned that you are quite adapt at it. So _speak_ , Human.>

Ducking his head, Marco answered, “Ax offered to let Gafinilan use his body. Morph him. You know, so he could escape the--”

<No Andalite would ever do such a thing!> Mertil yelled. <It goes completely against everything we believe in. How could Aximili...to offer his _body_? I... > Yes, Mertil had offered Gafinilan his own nearly the moment his illness was diagnosed, but Gafinilan’s horror at the concept and Mertil’s own revulsion at the thought had quickly tabled the discussion. And Aximili was neither relative nor lover...or even friend. 

Aximili had certainly been changed by his time on Earth. 

“We want to help,” Marco said. “I know I’m not an Andalite, and I don’t get the weird-ass Klingon honor thing you have going on, but come on! We’re talking about dying, here, a death that’s so ridiculously preventable that it makes me sick.” Marco leaned forward, his face intent. “To see someone throw his life away, after all the...the death of the last...it’s _wrong_.” 

<To die with honor is vastly preferable to living without it,> Mertil said slowly, wondering why he had to explain so basic a concept. 

Marco’s eyes narrowed. “Bull. Shit.” he said.

<On the Andalite homeworld,> Mertil continued, trying to explain, trying to keep from taking offense at Marco’s words, <neither of them would ever live down the disgrace. They would be shunned by even their families, and live the rest of their miserable existence in exile. To even _contemplate_ such a perversion... >

“Mertil,” Marco said, speaking slowly, as though talking to someone very young or very stupid, “ _you aren’t on the Andalite homeworld_.”

***

Anger and confusion bubbled in the back of Gafinilan’s mind throughout the day, channeled down the bond (though he recognized Mertil’s attempts at controlling it). Which, in turn, alternately worried him and annoyed him, as he still had to try and focus on the mundane tasks he was assigned. When he arrived home that evening, he was not in the best of moods, though prepared to give his companion the comfort he so clearly needed.

He was utterly unprepared for the wave of anger that swept over him the moment Mertil faced him. “ _Edra_ ,” he began.

<Don’t you _edra_ me, you-you-you SON OF A BITCH! > Gafinilan actually stepped back; he couldn’t remember ever seeing his mild-tempered partner this enraged before. < _Why didn’t you tell me?_ >

There was hurt, underneath the anger, and that cut far deeper than the human curse Mertil had flown at him. “Mertil,” he tried again.

<Am I not your equal?> Mertil demanded. <“I know that I am...damaged. But I thought that you, at least, saw me still as your friend. Your partner.>

“How can you even _think_ that?” Gafinilan yelled back, his own anger rising. “What have I done but love and protect you since the day we met?”

<Protect,> Mertil said, sadly. <You see me as your...woman.>

“No.” He could feel Mertil’s disbelief. “No!” he repeated, stronger. “Mertil, rest assured, if I thought of you as a woman, I would not be with you.”

Mertil stared at him a moment, before smiling slightly. <Well, that’s true enough.>

Gafinilan stepped forward, clasping Mertil’s shoulders. “What brought this on?” he asked.

<Marco,> Mertil began, and Gafinilan thought, _of course_.  <He told me...why didn’t you tell me what Aximili offered?> his companion demanded. <You made your decision without discussing it with me!>

“Decision...” Gafinilan’s voice trailed off as he realized what Mertil was saying. “Mertil, you cannot be serious. You expect me to _consider_ Aximili’s offer? Consider what? If I should kill the child for daring to suggest it, or myself for becoming so pathetic--”

<Stop!> Mertil interrupted. <Just...stop, please. I understand. I explained as much to Marco this morning.>

“Than why...?” Gafinilan asked, waving his hand to encompass the whole argument.

<Because I am a coward,> Mertil said. 

Mertil wouldn’t meet his gaze. His body drooped, drawing into himself, in a way he hadn’t around Gafinilan since just after his accident. Wordlessly, Gafinilan began to demorph. He couldn’t stand to have this conversation in someone else’s body.

<You are the bravest person I have ever known,> he told Mertil, projecting sincerity with everything he had. <If I have not made that clear, I have been seriously remiss.>

Mertil still wouldn’t look at him. <I am afraid, every day,> he confessed. <I’m afraid of being alone. I don’t think I can do this without you.>

<No.>

<Yes, Gafinilan,> Mertil answered. <Perhaps I am not the man you believed me to be. But if there is a way I can keep you alive, how can I not hope? I try to imagine living without you, and I can’t. I don’t think I have a future without you in it.>

<It’s _wrong_ ,> Gafinilan said, when his ability to thoughtspeak had returned.

<Yes,> Mertil agreed. <There are rules and taboos for many good reasons.> When his eyes met Gafinilan’s, they were filled with a smoldering heat that scared him. Mertil dropped his gaze. <But we are not on the homeworld any longer. Nor do our people want anything further with us, or us with them. We are alone.> After a long moment, he added, his thoughtspeak faint, <If we are alone together, I can bear it.>

Gafinilan leaned down, resting his forehead against Mertil’s. Mentally breaking his final ties with home, he answered, <Yes.>

***

They met in the woods. Neutral territory, out in the open where both Aximili and Gafinilan could be comfortable. 

<Aximili...> Gafinilan began, but stopped, having no idea what to say to him. 

<Commander Gafinilan,> Aximili said respectfully. 

Mertil stayed off to the side, near Marco. They both watched as the two Andalites stared at each other. He hoped that Marco would have the sense not to mar this solemn occasion with any ill-timed attempts at humor, but the human seemed thoughtful, quiet. 

Silence hung heavy in the clearing, until Gafinilan reached out, slowly, to place his hand atop Aximili’s shoulder. <I’m sorry,> Gafinilan said, sounding more defeated than Mertil could ever remember the other man being.

<I, as well,> Aximili answered. His eyes slipped shut as the trance overtook him, and a moment later, Gafinilan dropped his hand.

It was done.

Marco turned to Mertil, said softly, “We might not be around for awhile. Ax is really freaking out.”

<I understand,> Mertil answered.

“I just wanted you to know that it’s not you, okay? We’re still cool. Buds, right?”

<I understand,> Mertil repeated, more gently this time. 

He walked to his beloved, unsure of what the correct thing to say was, of if there was anything to say. Wordlessly, Gafinilan stepped beside him. They didn’t touch, but the pain in his beloved’s eyes made him want to reach out. <Thank you,> he said.

<Please don’t,> Gafinilan answered, pain etched on his face and in his words, and Mertil fell silent. 

He turned his eyes behind him to watch Aximili and Marco walk off in the opposite direction. Marco’s olive-skinned hand was twined through Aximili’s blue fingers, and the two leaned against each other as they walked. Though Mertil knew all too much of their relationship, it was still a shock to see. 

He glanced at his own beloved. If Aximili could put aside _species_ , Marco’s very essence, for the boy he loved, Mertil could do nothing less for Gafinilan. 

With a pang, he wondered if he would ever see his friends again, if Aximili, who had overcome his disgust with Mertil’s disability, would ever be able to enter the house of a _nothlit_ in his body. However, there wasn’t even a question of whether it was worth it or not. Yes, perhaps he would miss his new friends.

But Gafinilan would live.

***

Gafinilan decided to wait out his transformation in Mertil’s section of the house. He lowered himself slowly to the floor, relishing, for the first time, movement in his natural form without pain. 

It took a second, a heartbreaking, terrifying second, before Mertil lowered himself beside Gafinilan. Gafinilan stared at his companion, the competent and strong face, his weathered body. Even with his disfigurement, his shame, Mertil was an exceptionally handsome man. In his presence, Gafinilan felt gangly and awkward, ugly for the first time in many years. He bowed his head.

<I can understand if you no longer...desire me,> he told Mertil. <I am no longer what I was.>

For a long moment, Mertil merely stared at him. His gaze made the fur prickle down Gafinilan’s back, but he met it unflinchingly. Then, without warning, Mertil suddenly clutched hard at his arms. <You are alive!> he said, emotion coloring every nuance of his words, wordless love and relief and pure joy flowing across the bond they shared. <You are alive and out of pain. How could I care what you look like? You are _here_ ,> he said, tapping his head. Then he ran his hands down Gafinilan’s new, now-skinny arms. <You’re not leaving me,> he said reverently.

The depth of the emotion was overwhelming. < _Edra_ > he attempted, but could think of nothing to say. He tried to transmit his love and gratitude in feeling, and allowed Mertil to pull him so his face leaned against the now older man’s chest.

<You know,> Mertil said, after a moment, <Humans consider youth to be beautiful, desirable, far more so than age and experience.>

<Yes, well, humans also use _nuclear weapons_ on their _own planet and people_ , so forgive me if I don’t care overmuch for what humans consider acceptable.>

Mertil’s hands cupped Gafinilan’s face and raised it until their eyes met. He stared at his beloved for a long while, bathing in the wordless affection that engulfed him, until Mertil finally began to speak. <I love you.> he said, slowly, each word deliberate. 

<My soul, at least, remains unchanged,> Gafinilan answered after a moment. <And you are, as you have always been, the other half of my soul.>

Slowly, Mertil lowered his forehead to touch Gafinilan’s, and just breathed.

**END**

**Author's Note:**

> I had this sitting on my computer for years, until I finally decided to dust it off and finish it. If it's a little uneven in places, that's why.


End file.
